From the archive.
(2007 - )
The good, the bad, the ugly, the happy and the sad. Randomly selected and brought to the forefront because
years seems enough time gone by for the past to be worth exploring. See more →
The Latest ↓ Updates on Mondays.
My Dad came out for a visit a few years back, but it’d been over 5 years since he and Mom both spent time with us in California. Chalk it up to those lost Covid years, and the fact that Alexis and I get out to see them once or twice a year, rain or shine. In any case, it was overdue so only felt right to make it count, and I think we did.
We started out with a train ride north, watching the mountains and the Pacific roll by for miles on end until we reached Santa Barbara. We spent a few days here, and most of it was spent soaking in the town’s beauty, it’s history, and its sun. Frankly, a little too much sun. Trust me when I tell you a hat is a bald man’s best friend in the summer. Everything we ate and drank was a home run. From oceanfront dinning to brewery bites, and everything in-between. By our last day, the spell of the town’s charm had us rummaging through Zillow, wondering if we could all just live here instead.
After Santa Barbara, my parents spent a couple days in Laguna Beach without us, so that Alexis and I could briefly get back to our jobs in the salt mines. They had a nice time in Laguna, and once they got back, we spent the rest of our days together exploring the never ending offerings of Los Angeles. And I really mean never ending.
There was Mom using chopsticks for the first time. Brunch and donuts at The Grove. A trip to the Academy Museum for a closer look at details from some of Mom and Dad’s favorites, like The Wizard of Oz and Casablanca. Tacos at Trejo’s. A tour of Alexis’ work for a glimpse at some post-production magic. Dinner at Rao’s, where the one and only, Jonny Roastbeef, gave us an authentic New York welcome in LA. Alexis introduced my parents to one of her favorite movies, How To Lose A Guy in 10 Days, and we witnessed the miracle of my Dad staying awake through all of it, suggesting he might’ve actually liked it.
We walked the Venice canals to marvel at homes as diverse as the blooming flowers all around us. There was rooftop tapas and margaritas in Century City. A 50th anniversary screening of Jaws downtown, and the wild fact that Dad saw it originally in theaters 50 years back, and hadn’t since been to a movie in half that amount of time. We clinked glasses at the highest open-air bar west of the Mississippi, perched on top of LA’s tallest building. Probably forgetting some things, but in any case, you get the picture. We made it count.
This was the first trip my Mom and Dad have taken together since they’ve both been retired. My parents are as hard working as people come. It’s how I’ve always known them. Never putting themselves first. Always leaning much further in the direction of doing the things they had to do, rather than the things they might’ve wanted to. It brings me so much happiness to see them both retired now, enjoying the shade of trees they’ve planted long ago. It couldn’t be more earned and I couldn’t be more excited for this new and long chapter of life for them. I have a feeling it’s gonna be a great one.
Summer’s right around the corner, which means I’ve just barely got around to sorting through photos from winter. Once upon a time I couldn’t imagine neglecting this place as much as I have. Not sure how much that really says though. Lot that goes on that I couldn’t have imagined.
In any case, time brought some sights along with its endless march through winter. A Santa bar crawl. A very good boy who let us adopt him for a few weeks. Fireworks on The Queen Mary. Apocalyptic skylines from the wildfires. Snowball fights with the kiddos in Tahoe. Possibly setting a Guinness World Record for most rides ridden in a single day at Disney. This was Winter.
Knowitall by Phantom Planet
Hurricanes derailed our Florida vacation plans twice back in November, but we still managed to swing something. Ended up heading to Key West for Halloween with friends, and spent a few days after in South Florida with family.
Key West was for bars, boats, pools, sunsets, seafood, ghost tours, and countless wild chickens. In essence, the parrot head life.
South Florida was for getting time in with the ones I love most, but see the least. Getting to watching my nephew’s personality take shape. Seeing Mom and Dad the happiest I’d ever known them now that they’re grandparents. Attempting to teach my brother how to properly make a drink, but absolutely failing to reach him. Getting to know his partner Olga, and sharing a few late night laughs. Thankful to be able to do these things, faintly stung that I don’t do them enough.
Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes by Jimmy Buffett
Odd fact, I know more words to Jimmy Buffett’s songs than I can even believe. Obscure songs even. Before my family lived in Florida, we’d vacation there, nearly every single year. This meant Dad driving the approximate 1,300 miles from Illinoise to Estero Island, listening to Jimmy Buffet cassettes, non-stop. One man’s hell is another’s paradise I suppose. Gotta say though, it puts a smile on my face imagining my Dad’s state of mind brightening one mile at a time, as the Illinoise winter receded further and further into his rearview mirror, and wearing out those songs about boats, beaches, and bars.
Bearing witness as my youngest friend exits her 20s. Losing our minds experiencing The Sphere in Vegas with two brothers who adopted me. Pumpkin patches with the kiddos. Reviving our Annual Haunted Tiki Party from the dead. Baking turkeys upside down and welcoming Theo to the clan on Thanksgiving. FaceTime’s featuring colossal age differences, and occasional language barriers. Hearing one of my favorite albums played live from start to finish. Seeing myself credited next to one of my oldest friends. This was some of fall.
I Wish I Felt Nothing by the Wallflowers
Showering the old friends but new parents. Weekend getaways in Palm Springs. Mick Jagger inspiring me to work on my cardio. The men being boys in Denver. Vampire Weekend at Red Rocks. Time with the kiddos by day in Seattle, and head banging to Metallica by night. Hot chicken and endless drinks in name of love in Nashville. Dancing with Future Islands downtown. This was summer.
King of Sweden by Future Islands.
A momentary break from game development to explore a creative and technical curiosity. Art is the only place where getting lost feels comfortable.
Jacarandas painting our street purple. A first Easter with my Nephew. Yachting on the Intracoastal. Catching the solar eclipse fever. Hikes and bike rides. Cocktails in San Diego. Music in Pasadena. Collecting miles at Disney and Universal. Poolside birthday donuts. This was Spring.
World Sick by The Broken Social Scene.
I’ve worked entirely from home for the past four years. I love it, and will likely never go back into an office again. That said, it’s not without its flaws.
My role at work is typically a solitary one, without much collaboration. Working in a vacuum, so original ideas have the opportunity to bloom, as opposed to being influenced or echoing what other artists around you are doing. It’s not unusual for me to go a day or two without speaking to anyone at work. Combine one of those days with one of the many late nights my wife has at her office, and I’ll go 14 hours straight without speaking a single word. It’s a weird feeling, and if I’m being honest, a comfortable one, but undoubtedly unhealthy.
I decided I needed community in my life. I don’t practice religion, so I went for the next obvious choice. A run club. I found a group that meets in my neighborhood every week, and met up with them for first time this past summer. It’s funny, but walking up to a huddle of strangers that first night, felt as nerve-racking as the first day of school. Unsure what to expect. But man, I’m so glad I did. It’s been an awesome, lasting experience. People there know my face, my name, and notice if I’ve been gone, and I can say the same about them. I found community.
Since that first run, I’ve met up with them nearly every week since and always look forward to it. Lesson being, get uncomfortable.
When you look past the flying trucks, Spring saw all the usual suspects. Hikes, bikes, runs, bands, friends, and a few late nights. An unusually quieter season than typical. Less party, more work. A productive place to be, but the pendulum likes to swing.